


Move in Loser, We're Going Out

by SirKai



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: M/M, amonant - Freeform, lieumon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 09:35:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirKai/pseuds/SirKai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of events involving the growing relationship of Amon and Lieutenant.</p><p>Huge thanks to the ever wonderful Veitstanz for all the wonderful theorycrafting for these two!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Move in Loser, We're Going Out

It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him. He preached at all of the seedy bars in the non-bending slum. They all smelled awful. I’d never go in except to see him. 

Every night I would inch closer, listen to him a few rows farther in. I remember the first night I could make out the intricate olive and red of his mask. I could see the whitening of his knuckles as he raised his fist, shouting declarations of equality and revolution. The entire bar shouted with him.

I just watched. The room simmered as he tucked his hands behind his back and bowed to us. The crowd dispersed, speaking excitedly to each other. The stage lights dimmed, he turned his back to me, and stepped through the faded red curtain.

I darted towards the entrance, squeezing between the tight groups of people. It was raining when I got outside. Water splashed and soaked the bottoms of my pants as I sprinted around the corners of the building. 

There were two men in the alley, each hiding the bottom halves of their faces with black bandannas. That iconic blood ren sun was printed in the center.

“Get lost. Show’s over,” one said, stiff arming me. I stumbled back onto the drenched ground. Water soaked through my clothes, and I looked past the two bodyguards at their leader. He turned to face me. I must have looked pathetic.

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?”

“No problem Amon, this guy here was just leav-”

I leaned forward on my knees, bowing like a servant. “Sir! Please allow me to serve you!” I shouted.

I stared at Amon’s yellow eyes, holding my breath. He didn’t blink.

“Serve me?” Amon asked. He stepped forward, standing between the two other equalists. “Admirable, but the service is not to me. It is a service of unity. You would be serving the movement.” His eyes scoured my figure. Of course he could tell these weren’t the clothes of a slum dweller. “Why would I want you in my ranks?”

“I’m an experienced fighter, sir. I...” I hesitated. I had been speaking to him for ten seconds and I was already lying. “I’ve battled benders for as long as I can remember.”

Amon took a few graceful steps towards me and held out his hand. I grasped his fingers and he pulled me to my feet. I was slouching before him; wet, panting, and overwhelmed.

“There is more to the movement than simply fighting. Can you commit utmost trust to the cause?” Amon asked me.

My body stiffened like a newly carved arrow. “Yes sir! I will!” I breathed, bowing to him. It was another lie, but I didn’t care at the time. So far as I could see, it was getting me places.

“It would do no good to honor someone with a uniform on words alone. I’m not yet convinced. You will be carrying out orders under my supervision. Is that understood?”

“Of course! Thank you sir-”

“Amon,” he corrected sternly.

“Thank you, Amon.”

\---

I stood up from the war table and bowed. It was a common, frequent gesture that I felt I owed him.

“I appreciate your input, Lieutenant.” Amon rose from his chair, one hand tucked professionally behind his back. He stood tall with his chest broad, as if addressing an audience. “But I do not think such formalities are necessary anymore,” he told me, gently placing a hand on my shoulder.

My heart began to pound. I stayed quiet.

“Do you understand?” Amon asked me.

I cocked a puzzled eyebrow at the question as I straightened my back.

Amon sighed. He pulled his hand back, reaching into his sleeve and withdrawing a tiny shimmering key. “Your hand, Lieutenant.”

I stared at the silver key. I held out an open palm and he dropped it into my hand.

“This is the only spare key to my quarters,” Amon said. His voice lowered as he leaned in to speak. “Do not lose it, and do not let anyone know you have it. Is that clear?”

My heart was beating faster. I felt blood rush into the center of my face.

“Living with me will of course entail everything commonly associated with it,” he explained, taking a few steps back. “I presume this is acceptable?”

I nervously tugged at my mustache while staring into the key’s intricate grooves. 

“Lieutenant?”

I gaped back up at Amon’s mask. It seemed like those yellow eyes were drilling holes into me. “Yes, of course,” I agreed. I was barely aware of what I was agreeing to.

“Good,” Amon said. “I know you do not keep many personal belongings, so I expect everything will be moved and you’ll be made comfortable by tomorrow night.”

I nodded slowly. My body felt light and disconnected, like the orders from my brain were only half-heard suggestions.

“Additionally,” Amon continued. “I’ll require your presence for a meeting tonight.”

“With who?” I asked, regaining some semblance of composure.

“Me. Just me.”

\---

“‘The earth around her shook and tore, and it rose in great pieces with thrusting fists and pounding feet. The Avatar cut the air with a fierce kick, plunging the pieces of the earth into the ship. The wooden hull shattered open to make way for the rush of sea water, and the vessel was condemned to the abyss.’”

I placed the velvet bookmark over the words and closed the book. I recall how much I enjoyed feeling that worn leather cover against my fingers.

“Such ferociousness and vigor,” Amon said. He was still. For a man of such fury and passion, he was always quiet and attentive whenever I read to him. “She truly was afraid of nothing.”

“I didn’t know you admired past Avatars so much,” I sat the book on the nightstand at my side of the bed.

“The Avatar was once a strong and just symbol of balance, discipline and courage. Someone who fought for the well being and equality of the world over, now reduced to nothing but an impatient and sniveling child.” The inflections of his voice spiked in ways that were reminiscent of his passion when speaking on stage.

“And her predecessor?”

“Avatar Aang was ideal in his youth, but he was no monarch.” Amon stared out the open window as he spoke, his eyes no doubt scouring the innumerable golden lights in the distance that illuminated Republic City. “The foundations that he lay for this new world were doomed from the start. An Avatar like Kyoshi would have never made such mistakes, and I refuse to let the depravity of this city spread elsewhere. We’ve all seen the results and corruption of such imperialism. We’re living in it.”

“You think another force would rise up like the Fire Nation?”

Amon nodded at me. “Or worse,” he added. “Thank you for the conversation. You read well, Lieutenant.”

“Well, I hope I read better than I write,” I said with a smirk.

“I’ve never seen your writing.”

“You’re better off, believe me.” I offered Amon a weak smile.

“If you insist,” he said. The final syllable trailed off; Amon was clearly unconvinced. I could imagine his mouth, whatever it might look like beneath that pale facade, twisting into some teasing smile. 

He reached over to his bedside nightstand and retrieved a glass of water. It was no doubt lukewarm, but that never bothered Amon. He turned away from me, lifting up his mask to drink.

“Amon... you know, you don’t have to wear-”

“Please, Lieutenant. Not this again...” he pleaded, placing the glass back onto the nightstand with a sigh.

I arched my brow and glared at him.

“Have I been unfair to you?”

I swallowed, and exhaled a brief breath of air before scouting those yellows eyes again and answering. 

“Yes,” I said. 

I remember wanting so badly for him to reveal that face of his. It was not even his face I wanted most, just his trust. I wanted him to give me something no one else could have. I had done the same to him, and I was bargaining with my misery like pocket change.

“I’m sorry.” Amon looked into his lap. That might have been the first time I ever heard him apologize, and it was as poignant and sobering as a brass knuckled slap to the jaw. “You truly wish to see this? Some would say there is more fascination in mystery.” I could barely sense the snark hiding underneath his words. I liked to think it was an acquired skill, something no one else could detect.

I leaned in closer to him. “I think that mystery and honesty are equal parts fascinating.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Amon placed his hand on my shoulder. “I hope there is a day when I can lift this mask for you.”

“I’ll be here until that day then,” I assured him with a smile.

He narrowed his eyes at me.

“And beyond, of course.”


End file.
